


Lone Digger

by GhostHost



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Awkwardness, Coma, Flashbacks, More in fic, PTSD, Paranoia, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostHost/pseuds/GhostHost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kup had never considered himself a coward, but then, he’d never considered himself a bot killer either. </p>
<p>Turned out he was both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lone Digger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sedentarycore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedentarycore/gifts).



> A gift for CrackledSpandex, for the summer TF gift exchange! Hopefully I did this all right, I wasn’t exactly clear on how many offers I was supposed to fill haha. I also did not run with one singular prompt, but rather a few different ones offered within a pairing. They were twisted together and packaged up, and I hope you all (but especially CrackledSpandex) enjoy it! 
> 
> The ‘I took liberties with the plot!’ Notes: So I haven’t read most of exRID, nor any of SOTW, but I have read most everything else. So I let the TFWiki fill me in on what I’ve missed and then took a few liberties. I’m well aware Percy’s aboard the LL, and that I think Kup got somewhat through to Springer over a phone rather than in person, but we’re going to pretend that they managed to borrow Percy to help get Springer on his feet and then had a little while to keep him there before charging off into the sunset. Think of it as an AU where I moved some people and tweaked the timeline to make things just a teeeensy bit sadder. 
> 
> Warnings; PTSD, past murder/massacres, (former) student/teacher relationship, age difference, so much pre-relationship avoidance-awkwardness and angst, coma, flashbacks, blackouts, paranoia, delusions, considerations of suicide, and not quite OOC, but definitely playing with the effects of all the shit I just listed had on someone's personality.

   
Hey, brother, what you thinking?  
Leave that old record spinning  
You feel the rhythm, going  
(They call it lonely digging)  
Let's end your time to lay low  
Your knees a-bending, so  
It's time to get up and let go  
(You're gonna come undone)

-Lone Digger, Caravan Palace

 

* * *

 

“You need to talk to Springer. You’ve needed to talk to him for a while.” and leave it to Perceptor to be just that. Perceptive.

“Yawp.” There was no bother in denying it. He did need to talk to Springer.

 The kid stared at him. “You have needed to speak with him since your own return, a fact I told you shortly after you decided your body was perfectly fine to go on missions.” The unspoken “despite not being cleared to do so” was plainly implied and heard-Perceptor had been saying it since Kup had done it _ages a_ go. Nevermind this round.  He knew the kid’s speech backwards and forwards. The microscope surprised him though, by deviating off course.

“It is even more important to speak with him now.”

“Nawp.” It was important. He wasn’t denying that. But there was no need to rush it. No need to ruin today with that conversation. No need to ruin any day really, but not today.

Not when Springer had only been up for a few short weeks. Kid was still getting filled in on everything that had happened. Was still healing. Would still be healing- for a while. Kup knew. He’d been there.

Something had apparently gotten into Perceptor though, because the microscope let air whoosh out of his vents in a frustrated sigh and placed a hand on Kup’s shoulder. Kup stared at it, startled into stillness.

“We don’t get many chances like this, Kup.” Percy said softly. “And you and him have had far more than either of you should have. You owe it to yourselves to stop putting it off.”

And if there was anything in the world Kup hated, it was when one of his former students called him out on his own bullshit.

Kup had never considered himself a coward, but then, he’d never considered himself a ‘Bot killer either.

Turned out he was both.

But the kid was right. It was time he faced things. Everything.

And that included The Thing between him and Springer.

“Okay.” He said.

Perceptor nodded at him, apparently deciding his message had gotten through. His hand left Kup’s shoulder after a gentle pat (and where the pit did his former trainees get off, thinking he needed to be coddled?) and a small smile. Kup let it go though. It was rare that any of them smiled, but Perceptor especially so, and he was proud of the kid for doing what others didn’t want to. Provided they had even noticed.

With a heavy x-vent of his own, Kup turned around, headed in the direction of Springer’s hab.

Well. The long way to Springer’s hab.

He would do it today. But no one could blame him for wanting to get his head straight first.

xXx

 

Three laps around the ship later and  Kup wondered if the others had figured it out yet. If Springer had figured it out yet.

Because death and delusions weren’t the only things that needed to be discussed.

_Springer staring at his broken face, his cracked out optics. Springer’s field engulfing him in sheer relief. Kup’s met it, and their joy mixed with a dozen other fleeting emotions. Pride, thankfulness,_ other.

_Springer, thinking the drugs had knocked him out, thinking he was long past consciousness. Springer leaning over, talking to him, head bent as though in a prayer._

_Words soft, quite. A few bold statements, and a dawning realization that Kup felt all the way to his spark as he finally drifted down into recharge._

The madness had taken a lot from him but it had left that.

And frag it all, why hadn’t he seen it before? It had been looking him in the face the whole time. Not for the first time, he wondered how far it went back, when exactly it had happened.

And when he’d started to return it.

But those emotions were fickle things, and unreliable. Deadly, even, in the time of war. Neither of them had time for it and neither of them had wanted to admit they possessed it.

Look at where that had gotten them.

Just because you wouldn’t acknowledge something didn’t mean you didn’t have it.

Didn’t mean you wouldn’t act on it.

Springer had proven that.

“This is a grand ol mess, kid.” He murmured, puffing his cy-gar. “A grand ol mess.”  Because Kup hadn’t just returned mad from Tsiehshi. He’d returned having lost an entire part of himself, his personality. He’d gone on to lose more of it when he’d returned from the Dead Universe. Nevermind gaining the blackouts, the insomnia, or the paranoia.

He had every reason to ignore this entirely. To put The Thing back in it’s proper place, the back of his processor where he could avoid it until it died. Except he couldn’t any more. He had more than enough time sitting on his aft to think about things. Things like what he would do, what he should do. What he wanted to do. Things like how he really felt. You could run from everything else but yourself in the place he’d ended up and he had nothing better to do than _think._

Think and make himself a few promises. Ones he needed to own up to now. They had been halted due to Springer’s coma, and then the Decepticons (it was always the Decepticons) then Prowl, and well, they were still on Prowl, they had just taken a short reprieve to get things going. Things like waking up Springer-and getting him battle ready.

Screw Prowl. As long as Kup stood, he was not sending any more people out before they were ready. Springer would go when he got the final medical approval to do so. Kup was too old, far too old, to be putting up with anything less. He’d seen too many people die to send anyone else off without raising their chances a little.

He could feel his age now, weighing on him. The old mech jokes had never been far from him, no matter where he went or who he was with, but it had never felt so much like a horrid thing until after he’d popped out of the other dimension. Until after he’d spent several billion years regretting life choices, suffering through hallucinations, waking up and wishing he hadn’t. Trying to out-trick an idiot so he wouldn’t go off destroying the people he had trained, people he’d killed to protect.

Trying to think about what to say to a former student who’d stood by him longer than he should have.

xXx

Lap 5 had taken him past Springer’s habsuit, whereupon he'd stared at it as he approached then walked right past. He was not a coward, this was not like him -or rather it wasn’t like the old him and that difference was something even he didn’t like thinking about. Old Kup would have never paced around like this. Old Kup would have had this conversation long before now.

Old Kup was not haunted by things every time he closed his optics and had a processor firing on all cylinders so Old Kup could fragging shove it for all Current Kup cared.

He still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say. He didn’t think Springer remembered what Kup had said to pull him out of his coma; at least not all of it, but then, Kup had heard plenty even when he was half-mad, mostly dead and two sparkbeats away from shutdown. He’d never brought it up, so it was more than likely Springer was simply sticking to their policy of dealing with The Thing, which was to never mention a word of it and give no hints about it.

Deeper emotions like this, getting involved like this had never been Kup’s forte. Had been something he’d actively preached against in fact. You don’t get attached in war. Of course, when ‘war’ lasted longer than some planets lifespans, things got a little complicated.

_‘Complicated is what brought Springer back though.”_

Well. Sort of.

The memory was fresh, and it didn’t take long to fall into it, to remember the equal amounts of grief and relief he felt upon seeing Springer laying there-and then seeing him _respond._ To remember what he’d said, finally able to give voice to something, even if Springer would never know he’d spoken them.

He’d wasted no time when the shuttle had landed those few weeks ago, had gone straight to where the kid was. He’d strode through the halls like every bit the commander and legend he was and didn’t let a human ounce of his real emotions touch his field, show on his face. He kept going until he was staring _at Springer’s unconscious body, chewing silently on the end of his cy-gar._

_It was the first time he had visited, and it wasn’t_ _lost on him he was only here because he had to be._

_He hadn’t been_ able to bring himself to come before this though. Had purposefully kept himself away.

He’d spent nearly his entire time in the Dead Universe thinking about how much he wished he could’ve tried _something_ to pull Springer free but had assumed (stupid, you never assume) that Springer would be back up and running by the time Kup would return (and he had always clung to the hope he would. That if nothing else, he’d make it long enough to see how everything had turned out. To see the kid one more time. No one was too good to die, he knew that but he also knew Springer was special. Had always known. If anyone would make it through, it’d be the kid.. And perhaps the amount of time he’d spent by himself had warped him a little but those thoughts...it was what kept him going on. Even when he was certain he was dead and just suffering in the pit)

It had been something of a shock to find out Springer wasn’t.

‘Course it had taken his processor a little bit to wrap around the idea that time had passed a little differently between the dimensions.

So when he knew that Springer was still down, he kept himself away.

Because, from the moment he’d been informed, he knew that if he had come like he had wanted to, he’d have to pull the plug. Because Springer didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be forced to go on when he could no longer. Didn’t deserve to be bodily kept alive when the rest of him was dead.

Didn’t deserve to have to go through what Kup did. Trapped, alone, unable to move on...

And Kup knew he was going to have to be the one to do it. No one else would admit defeat, no one else wanted to give up. But if he saw him, laying lifelessly on that slab...

He wouldn’t be able to fool himself anymore. Tell himself the kid was going to get up, if he gave him just one more day.

From here? Where he couldn’t see him?

Kup could do that all day. Tell himself it was just a few more hours before the news come about that Springer had woken up. To give him just one more day.

So he hadn’t visited.  Out of selfishness, absolutely. He wasn’t going to deny that it was wrong. A part of him, a dark part of him, thought Springer deserved that, because he’d done the same. Kept fighting when he should have given up. Kept sending mechs down, knowing they’d be killed by Kup’s own hand…

But that was wrong too, because even as he felt the anger and sorrow that accompanied those thoughts, the way the world suddenly tilted beyond his control and the way it punched his tank and made his vents wheeze knowing how many innocents had died, not in war but fighting one of their own, he had the unfortunate realization that he would have down the same. Was doing the same, in fact.

Is this what Springer had felt? When Kup was stripped bare of most of his own body? When he was out of his mind mad with radiation? This deep-in-your-wires pulse of hurt that you couldn’t deny? Is this what had prompted him to do it, to finally acknowledge what they never had previously? As if by doing so, by finally putting something to the The Thing, it would jolt Kup back to normal?

Kup did not believe in magic, but that didn’t stop the words from feeling like some kind of spell.

And it had worked. It had been what had pulled him through, the strands that had held his thin-wearing sanity together. He hadn’t been willing to change himself, and in the end wasn’t given much of a choice, but he’d come through alright. Recovered more than anyone could have hoped. Not as well as they pretended he was, because they needed to think he was still the same being. Needed someone to keep helping lead the charge, back then. Needed someone to man a new unit, which was exactly what he done after disbanding the Wreckers.

Springer had known though. Springer had seen right through him.

It said something about the two of them that Kup had expected him to.

“They told me,” He said quietly, the first words he’d spoken since he’d stepped into the room some time ago, “that you wouldn’t wake up. That the chance of you doing so was slim to none, and that those of us who have been keeping you alive have been doing you an injustice.”

So much so that certain mechs had attempted to finish the job. And sure, many people probably thought Whirl just wanted to off his commander, was too messed up in the processor to make such a clear distinction but Kup knew his mechs. Knew the ‘copter was trying to do what he thought was right, and got ostracized for it.

Just like Springer had been, when he’d brought Kup back. Just like he’d been when he’d worked with Kup to get his body back, his mind back.

They’d spent an awful lot of time together, most of it involving Kup swearing heartily at the triple changer, but not one word of what had been said when he was recovering had ever surfaced.

At the time Kup thought it was due to a mutual understanding. Feelings like that were a surefire way to get you killed in a war like theirs and sure, Springer had slipped up. He’d let his emotions effect his logic in a way no good commander should (something forever and always lost on one Optimus Prime) It might have done some good, pulling Kup through like it had, but it had done a whole lot of bad. He knew that now. Had known that for a while. Had known from the whispers of the mechs who’d aided Springer, more than a good amount of them having disagreed with his actions. Known from their stares and the way some questioned Kup’s sanity, his ability to truly bounce back.

Being told was simply the final nail in the coffin, putting a face to a mystery. He might not have had the specifics, but he’d been around long enough to know how people reacted when one of their own came unhinged.

Nevermind the fact he still woke up from deep recharge, armor slicked tight against him, thinking he was back there, fighting creatures that wouldn’t stay down, wouldn’t stop coming...

“ I’m not in the best place kid. But I’m not gonna roll over and let things go like this. And you damn well aren’t either.” He’d been spending too much time on Earth again, the human’s curses were infecting his vocabulary. He spoke  loud enough to be heard though, because if there was one thing he’d learned over the years it was that there was always people watching. And what he’d just said? That’s what people expected him to say. They wanted some kind of grand speech, and they wanted that speech to wake up Springer.

Because that’s how it happened in the Earth movies and the old Cybertronian holovids, so clearly, that’s what was going to happen here, right?

Right. Sure.

He’d tell them whatever he needed to. Give em what they wanted.

“Prowl needs ya, asked for ya specifically. And you’ve had plenty of time to heal.”

And he spoke a little more, enough for whatever grunt they had on security to grow bored, before he felt it was safe enough to speak freely. Before the little niggling feeling of doubt, and worry, and panic eased enough to let him do what he came here to do.

He bent over the triple changer, helm held close to the others, cy-gar held between two fingers to clear his mouth and let him whisper.

“Come back, Springer. I need you more than Prowl does.” It was a poor start, but finally acknowledging  The Thing wasn’t going to be easy. Somehow he didn’t think it was supposed to be.

The rest came slowly, things that he’d thought long and hard about. Things that echoed back to the words Springer had spoken, in hopes that Kup would make it through so long ago. He ended it with another quiet sigh, and an admission that hurt almost more than openly defining the feelings between the did.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer without you here, kid. And I know we were never like that, and I know I’ve always said scrap like this was a bad idea, but I think we both know that you don’t always get to choose how you feel. We’re already in the pit, it’s about time we admitted it. So you either get up, or you stay down and let me join you.”

Because he was old. He was tired. He was nothing like how he used to be, even if he acted like it. Most days he felt more like a speaker-piece than a warrior. He had lived to see this war come to a shaky end, even if he didn’t believe for a second it was actually over, but it was enough for him. All of this was enough for him.

So he’d let Springer decide.

And Springer had woken up.

Not then, not immediately, but that had been the turning point, the moment the kid had managed to signal he wasn’t done just yet. So, neither was Kup.

He told them it was an inspirational speech that had gotten the triple changer up. He didn’t need them to know about The Thing, nor did he want to acknowledge that it was what had gotten a reaction. He never once told anybody he fully had plans not to finish this mission once he learned it was about rescuing Prowl and seeing what the human kid was up to, if he’d had to put Springer down.  And If anyone was ever listening in, no one ever brought it up.

All that mattered was that Springer had woken up.

Which brought him back to today. It’d been a few weeks since Springer had come online, and the mech was slowly being tested to see if he was fully healed. If he could handle the stress of battle-of finding Prowl.

A long enough time for Kup to stop making excuses.

xXx

Eight laps now and he couldn’t put it off anymore. He’d had some odd billion years to slug through his thoughts, he didn’t need to be doing it now.

It took him no time at all to approach Springer’s door.

He vented, berating himself for avoiding this in the first place and blaming everything from the paranoia his blackouts caused to his own ideals. Those berations slowly subsided as no one answered the door.

Kup knocked again.

Nothing.

“Kid?” he called out. “Springer?”

Frag. what if the kid had fallen back into a coma? What if he was injured and unable to answer? What if the _creatures were back and in the building, coming for him, coming for Springer, he needed to get out, now, needed to get back to the cave-!_

Kup didn’t realize he’d hit the override code to the door-didn’t know he knew it-until it stood open before him. He entered quickly, shoving down panic and trying to tell himself he wasn’t there anymore, that there was a bunch of radioactive delusions to begin with, and Springer wasn’t in his room.

He spun in a slow circle, optics tracking every corner. Not one sign of the triple changer.

::Kup, come in.:: Arcee, hailing him over comms. He ignored her, spark pulsing wildly, still looking.

::Springer just got cleared. Gather what you need, we’re launching in two joors.:: Impatient as always, chomping at the bit to get at a bot that a good portion of the army didn’t like, Arcee signed off.

He’d be irritated, but Springer was with her, and if Springer had finally been cleared to go he’d be anxious to set off. Sleeping for a few years hadn’t suited the kid any-and Kup hadn’t liked the look in his optics the few times he’d discussed the coma.

It looked too much like Kup’s own, that kind of vacant hauntedness that spoke ill of one's sleep cycle and general mental stability.

Battle-systems slowly winding down, he took one last look at the room before heading out. ::I’m on my way.:: He answered, showing no signs of his prior panic-and his slowly sinking spark.

His cowardness had won out again and he’d lost his chance to talk.

He might never get another.  

Just one more regret for him to carry.


End file.
